Romans & histoires Elena Of Avalor

"It’s a rare skill, even among our kind. But I suppose I should introduce myself properly, since we are going to be seeing a lot of each other." ​She leaned in closer, the scent of vanilla and something metallic filling my senses. ​"I'm Elena," she said, a small, sharp smile playing on her lips. "Cassian’s fiancée. And the mother of the next Vaelor heir." ​The air left my lungs. I looked at her hand, the hand that had supposedly saved my life, and all I could think about was the note I had dropped on the table. Could she have been the one who dropped the note? And did she really say Cassian’s fiancée? How was that even possible?

Beside her, Valeria appeared again. “Oh, Alpha Prince Alistair,” she said with a small smile. How on earth did she recognize me? Her eyes shifted between Elara and me, and Elara and she stared back at me. “I’ve heard a lot about you, even though you are practically invisible,” she stretched her hand towards me. I took it, shaking her slightly. Elara looked unbothered, not even staring at us, and that slightly made my stomach sink. “I’m Valeria…daughter of Alpha Valex.”

Elara asked, causing Elijiah's teeth to grind in anger. "You're breaking up with me? And who are you to make that decision?" Elijah asked angrily, causing Elara's blood to boil even more. "Me? Who am I? I'm just the daughter of Calisto, the beta and gamma who saved the entire Forestheart Pack. So, just accept my rejection already and let the Moon Goddess bless you with your Fated mate," Elara replied, but then she acted surprised, covering her mouth. "Hey, hold up. You might actually know your fated mate already," Elara replied to Elijah.

He didn’t scare people like Elaine did; he wasn’t unapproachable or doused in rumors; he was there for all to see, and people respected him for it. The figure continued down the road, and Elaine’s hand released her hidden hold on the cool metal object in the pocket of her cloak. It was the dagger she always had on her, a gift from Benjamin, the man who had found her frail and alone on the streets of Tria in the North of Artharia. It had been Benjamin who had rescued her from the fate of being an orphan, Benjamin who had discovered her curse turned gift, and Benjamin who had brought her to the greatest school on earth and blessed her with his dagger.

Encrypted data streams, visible as shimmering cascades of characters, just fast enough to be unreadable, just slow enough to be intimidating. The world. Compressed. Weaponized. Isolde was already there. Of course she was. She sat with the patience of someone who had never waited for anything, only arranged for others to arrive on her schedule. So was Elena Volkov. Her presence was a complication. Elena had been an ally once, or the closest approximation the game allowed. Now her allegiance was geometry, angles, distances, equations Ava couldn't yet solve. And two new faces.

Immediately the one on my neck started to vibrate in response, glowing softly. "This confirms what I suspected," the Oracle said. "Elena is connected to the bloodline of the last Avatar. The one who disappeared during the Purge, believed killed but never confirmed." "So she is one of the witches,” Lord Aldric said flatly. "This makes her more dangerous, not less." "Unknown parentage," Lord Brennan added. "Unknown bloodline. No true connection to our kingdom or its laws. She could be a plant from an enemy nation.” "That is ridiculous!" Kieran's voice rang out from the gallery. He was on his feet again, barely restrained by Marcus and David. "You are twisting facts to support your predetermine

Elena, seated in an armchair near the window, smiled as she watched Valkiria give orders to servants, seamstresses, and clan members as if she were commanding an army. "I’m starting to think she was born for this," she murmured. Vlad, beside her, simply raised an eyebrow. "Valkiria was born to command." Elena chuckled softly. The preparations lasted all week. The inner garden would be illuminated by hundreds of candles protected in crystal domes. The grand hall looked like something out of an ancient dream. On the fifth day, Valkiria appeared with the dress, leaving Elena speechless the moment she saw it—it was breathtaking.

Elena. Lucien’s blue eyes followed every one of her movements. As though he wished he could cross the distance at once and pull her into his arms. Caelan’s brows furrowed, and then the fear he had tried to deny became real. The woman who could make the Lycan King smile… The woman for whom the Lycan King waited like this… was Elena. Elena Ashvale. The woman he had rejected before everyone. The only woman he had ever loved.

It was a suffocating pressure that demanded to be unleashed, and as I gently unclasped Vanessa's delicate hands from my waist and turned around to face her, only one name flashed through my darkened mind. Elena. She was my personal maid. She was a rogue whose very existence in this keep was granted solely by my mercy. Her body, her life, and her breath belonged to me. It was only fitting, I reasoned with a cold, detached cruelty, that she should be the one to serve all of my needs. If the Goddess had denied me the gentle mate I had prayed for, then I would take my solace, my revenge, and my pleasure from the defiant, golden-eyed captive whose duty it was to obey my every command.

"She tried. You didn’t care enough to hear it." Ava didn’t stop. "You want to know the funniest part? She didn’t even need your life. She was Elena Valenti. She had guards, cars, money, a father who could buy your airline if he got bored. But she gave all of it up to stand behind you." Julian gripped the phone until his knuckles went white. "I didn’t know." "Because you never asked." Ava’s voice dropped. "You loved having a woman who waited, cooked, packed, forgave, and never made you feel small. You didn’t love her. You loved the service."